Victor nodded, as if he’d expected nothing less. “You’re sure she’ll come?”
He considered for a moment.
“I won’t force her,” Gage said finally. “But I know I can’t stay longer.”
Victor studied him. “Good. There’s no power in vacillating.” He rose then, crossing to the window. Across Northgate, the Griffin Ventures tower stood against the inky night. “I assume Rafael is still circling?”
“He’s not the problem.”
“No,” Victor conceded. “But he’ll be there if one arises. He’s already signaled as much.” He turned. “When you go, Gage, go clean. No half measures. No loose ends. The girl, fully yours. Or not.”
The next stage wasn’t one to bring a girlfriend to. Only a wife had the permission, protection, and permanence to withstand it.
Gage’s jaw was tight. “Understood.”
“The London office awaits you and Nate. You’ll assume full control by next January. I’ll make the public announcement no later than October.” And then, after a long pause: “If she comes, I’ll welcome her. If she can’t…I still expect you to act as you know you must.”
Gage normally wouldn’t say more. Not in this room.
But for once, he reached out. Not as an heir. As a son. “She won’t follow me unless she’s certain.”
Blue met blue. The response didn’t come from the kingmaker. It came from the one man who understood exactly what it meant to ask a woman to carry a legacy not her own.
“Then give her certainty,” his father said. “Or let her go.”
There was no margin for error.
Gage nodded once. And left.
He took one flight of stairs down to his office.
There was something he could take care of immediately.
He’d mapped the shape of Bea’s experience with Catherine through Georgina, who seemed relieved to speak now that Bea had, and through his contact at Monaghan & Stowe.
He hadn’t needed proof to believe Bea, only to act. The pattern was clear: a quiet campaign to make Bea doubt her place—because, according to Georgie, Catherine thought Bea had taken something that was hers. Him.
A delusion. There had never been a seat for Catherine. Or anyone else, before Bea.
Before his next meeting began, Gage made the calls.
Not to Catherine. That was drama he didn’t need, and proximity he found distasteful.
One to the board that had once invited her in. One to the chair who owed the Kings two favors. No fallout. No headlines.
Catherine wouldn’t be made to doubt her place. She simply wouldn’t have one anymore.
Chapter Twenty-One
The line at the coffee cart stretched across the pavement. Two lecture halls had just emptied, and caffeine was nonnegotiable.
Bea and Lillian stood in line, half considering finding another cart, half invested in this one since they’d already been standing there for ten minutes. Behind them, two guys were loudly ranking protein powders. The barista waved to the next student, and they shuffled forward.
“So I’m going to Gage’s graduation tomorrow.”
“Oh, wow. Are you sitting with his parents?”
Bea nodded.
